For Her
by Miss Matched
Summary: *Chapter Nineteen up!* Phoebe and Gerald discover exactly how frail time is when a time machine is stolen from their lab. Meanwhile, a lone boy learns that he's his own worst enemy. Sequal to My Muse, not needed to enjoy this, though. P+G, H+A
1. Growing Apart

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Weee. I like cheese. Much cheese, yes, yes!!!!!!

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Chapter One: Growing Apart 

~*~

Point of View: Arnold

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I never saw it coming.   
  
  
  
Fourth grade had ended. Fifth had passed. Sixth had flown by. Though school years usually drag on seemingly forever, these didn't, for good reasons. My friends for one. I mean, with friends like Harold, Sid, Stinky and Gerald, how could school be boring. Oh yeah, there's one other person that keeps school interesting.  
  
Helga G. Pataki  
  
Yes, she's the same girl as ever; fiercely protective of those she loves, and mysterious to those she doesn't. People classify have a hard time classifying her. She could be a geek, she has the grades to prove it. But she was sort of a jock, always playing with the boys, and excelling at it. She could be one of the acting freaks, but she was also a Chorus nut. Funny how there's a name for every clique? But I digress. People couldn't classify her, so they stopped caring.  
  
Guess that did file her under something...  
  
reject.  
  
  
I'm a little ashamed to say that I'm popular. Once again, so many cliques in seventh grade, it's really astonishing. And then, there's the stereotypes that come with them. Popular people reject others who are not popular. A popular person with a reject would never work. Or so they said. But they don't know anything.   
  
I used to be in love with a reject, did that make me one? Yes, I did say "Used to". As the years flew by, we were torn apart, and I guess I just assumed it wasn't meant to be. Different classes, and slowly gaining different friends, I grew apart from my first reciprocated love. Slowly drifted away from Helga. I couldn't... and can't try to believe things between us are the same as always. It wouldn't be fair on her. Is it really fair for me to push aside my own feelings then? Why not? She had done so for so many years, saving her pride, and in some ways, trying to protect my own too.   
  
And so my heart is a little torn, maybe it has growing pains too? I know I'm changing, but sometimes people refuse to see. To them, I'm still good old, reliable, Arnold. And I loathe it.   
  
  
So, again, I never saw it coming. How could I see it, I'd avoided her for so long. And she too had avoided me. Whenever I looked at her, Helga would never return my gaze, choosing to look at her feet instead. The hallways are a sad site sometimes; the jocks and populars make fun of the "lower classes". It's enough to make you sick.   
  
"Hey goat ears!"  
  
"Pipe down" Helga shot back at whoever had just called her a name. In a way, I was glad that if anyone had to be a reject, it was her. She knew how to put the bullies in their place, and also how to whip them if they went too far.   
  
"What, you talking to me Hel-gaaaa?" I looked up to see that Harold was the one doing the taunting. Herald grew into a hulking football player, and still caused fear because he had a few years on all of us.   
  
"Yeah, have a problem with that pink boy?" She stopped in the middle of the hallway, gazing angrily back at him.  
  
"We're not in Elementary school anymore, Hel-gaa, the little baby name calling won't work." He walked up closer to her. "Now, is there something you want to say?" He looked at her menacingly.  
  
Helga glared back at him "Not me, but Old Bessy has a few words." She held up her fist, and was about to give him a good thrashing. I was happy about that, perhaps she could knock him off his high horse (he got on that every once in a while, but was a good friend when he wasn't). But still, Helga could get suspended, and one thing like that could screw up your chances of getting into some colleges.  
  
"He's not worth your time, Helga." I shouted back. As she turned around to look at me, Harold punched her in the gut. He began to laugh, and his other friends joined in. I was surprised, I never thought he would go farther then intimidation, but now wasn't the time for thinking. "Harold!"  
  
"Oh look, the perfect Arnold is here to save his widdle friend?" Harold's comebacks hadn't improved since the fourth grade.  
  
"Just back off" I said, trying to sound reasonable "She hasn't done anything to you."  
  
"She talked back to me"  
  
"With very good reason." I said back.  
  
"Arnold, ya might just wanna let it slide, he's not worth it either." Helga said, getting herself back up.  
  
"He shouldn't do that. No one should! It's not fair!"  
  
One of my friends, Nick, seemed surprised at my outburst "Hey man, just be lucky it isn't you."  
  
"I'll let you slide this time, Arnold, for old time's sakes" Harold decided.  
  
"Gee Harold, so benevolent of you" I commented dryly, walking off. "Hey Helga, wanna come with?" People slowly began to go to their classes again, realizing that a fight wasn't going to happen. And I figured that I already must have broken a few clique codes already, why not defy the whole system?  
  
"You've gotta get to class" She said cooly.  
  
I laughed "We have the same lunch! Come on, please?" I tried Harold's line on her "For old time's sake?"  
  
Helga smiled brightly, but it was quickly replaced by a look of sadness. "Okay Arnoldo, this once."  
  
After years had passed, I got a chance to see if anything had changed, or could change. But little did I know... I never saw it coming.

  


  


  
  



	2. Where We Left Off

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Oatmeal is a funny word. Funny, funny, funny.

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Chapter Two: Where We Left Off

~*~

Point of View: Arnold

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I couldn't help but smile at all the attention we were getting. It was truly pathetic how a big deal was made out of EVERYTHING in Junior High. Seriously! I acted like I didn't notice the stares, but Helga, self conscious as ever, couldn't help but stair back and blush mildly. I don't imagine she's had this much "lunchroom-attention" since fourth grade; the day we revealed our feelings for each other. I couldn't help but think of that... a lot. Sort of pointless, yeah, but hey, what can I say?   
  
"Earth to Arnold? Come in" I heard Helga tease.  
  
"Oh, huh?" I blinked a few time. "Sorry... just reminiscing"  
  
Helga smiled (She's so pretty when she smiles) "Yeah... lots of memories" She looked awkward for a moment. "Is it just me, or is this really hokey?" There's the Helga I knew!  
  
"If you pull any more shy crap on me I'm gonna blow chunks!" I laughed "Now come on!"  
  
Helga sighed "If you make this any freaking more harder on me, head boy, I swear I'll"  
  
This took me by surprise. "Hey hey, what?"  
  
To my surprise and dismay, I saw tears in her eyes. "For your information, Arnoldo, I'm moving to New York"  
  
I was completely shocked "NO WAY! You can't go!"  
  
Helga laughed shortly "Wow, after a five minute reunion you begin to care again?"  
  
I sighed "I'm really sorry about... everything. It's just this new school and fitting in and..."  
  
"Don't explain yourself" Helga half-smiled "All that matters is that you're here now. I need a few days to say goodbye to my good friends."  
  
Friends. The word nearly killed me, I swear. "Yeah... When are you moving? AND WHY???"  
  
"Next week" She said sadly "And Pheebs already knows" she shook her head in frustration, her half-ponytail swishing in a vigorous movement. "And as for the why, Bob's found a good place for rent to build his new beeper emporium. I mean, Gerald Field and Mighty Pete were out so..."  
  
"So you're moving..." I finished for her. She nodded back sadly.  
  
"One whole week, head boy" She feebly joked. I liked how she was already back to calling me by her old nicknames. "After that, you'll be so sick of me, you'll never want to see me again!" she vowed   
  
I hoped... Yeah, I know how cruel that sounded... but it would be better for the both of us if we hated each other before she left...  
  
  
at least I hoped.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Arnold! What was THAT about today?" By that, I knew that Gerald was talking about the semi-fight in the hallway.  
  
"Standing up for what I believe in, Gerald" I admitted.  
  
He looked relieved. "Finally, now there's the Arnold I know again. The bold kid!"  
  
I didn't know I had ever left... But then again, people always said I was dense....

  


Luckily, some things never change. I swear, all of us woulda' gone nuts if the transition between Elementary school and Jr. High caused our entire lives to change. Though the friends playing the game changed, an after school game of baseball at Gerald's field was always in order whenever the homework level was low and spirits were high. Our crew that today was Sid (who now went without the baseball cap, and sported a crew cut), Gerald (Same ol, true blue Gerald... the hair's just a bit shorter, but up in that gravity-defying style as always), Stinky (Same Stinky, he's someone who just never changes), Nick (My new friend, he's a bit on the preppy side; you know the type, polo-wearing, bowl-cut-sporting all Americans blue eyes brown hair. That was a long sentence. My English teacher would frown at it.) and some other guys who came whenever they felt like it. Gerald Field had matured along with the rest of us. It's really neat, actually; Gerald had forbid us from going there for the longest time. We we're kinda angry until we found out why. As a surprise, he painted huge murals of urban legends on the three walls surrounding the field. Believe me, Gerald is an amazing artist!   
  
My game never changed much either. I couldn't hit for my life. And when I actually did hit, nine out of ten I beaned someone with it. I still felt bad about it, but it's like that attraction that draws those bugs to the bug zapper; for some reason I couldn't quit playing.   
  
"Move in," Nick teased "No hit Arnold's at bat!" One thing Nick was famous for was his mean pitch. That was the difference between him and Harold, now that I think about it; only his pitch was mean. Even when he was laughing at you, you couldn't hold it against him. I used to wonder how that type of people always managed to do it. But back to the game. He pitched it, and I actually hit it. "I hit it!" Was the first thing that went through my mind. "Who's gonna be next at the hospital?" was the second. I began to run to the first base. I stopped, wondering where the ball was.   
  
"OVA HERE!" Someone called out from across the street. Lo and behold, Helga was holding the ball high above her head. "Nice one, Arnoldo! HOME RUN!!!!" She beamed, and I finished running the bases.  
  
"But she done caught it" Stinky pondered "I dun understand why he's not out!"  
"Duh! Because Helga doesn't even play with us any more, remember?" Sid shook his head in awe at Stinky' stupidity.  
Stinky's eyes got wide "Why, I plum forgot! 'ELLO THERE HELGA!" He shouted across the street, waving his arm in a huge sweeping motion.  
"You dope!" Sid laughed "You're just a big dope!"  
  
Helga walked over and handed Nick the ball. "I guess I'll see you..." she began to walk away.  
"Hey, Helga. We needed another person on my team anyway" I said, catching up with her.  
"Really?"  
"No!" I laughed "But I want you there anyway"  
She smiled another one of her prize-winning smiles "Then what are we waiting for?" I handed her the bat, and it nearly felt like fourth grade again. Nick gave her a one over, and gave me "the look", but pitched the ball anyway.  
  
*CRACK* We watched as the ball flew up into the air, to the point that we couldn't even see it anymore. "Oops" she blushed, and looked back at Nick "You've got a strong pitch" Nick, meanwhile, was still staring agape at her.   
  
Gerald sighed "I guess the game's over for today..." Everyone mumbled their goodbyes and drifted away. (Sometimes I think that the game and field are the only things holding some of our friendships together) I looked back at Helga.   
"Hey, how did you catch that ball anyway?" I asked, curious. "Didn't it hurt?"  
She burst into laughter "Catch it? That woulda' broke my hand. I picked it up off the sidewalk" I rolled my eyes as she ran off. "I'll see you tomorrow, Arnold!" she said warmly. I smiled, nothing could ruin this moment. "And don't forget your Science project's due tomorrow!"  
...okay... so that could... 

  



	3. As Charming and Witty as a Cactus

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Arnold's head is cool. Really, it is.

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Chapter Three: As Charming and Witty as a Cactus

Point of View: Helga

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"I still remember it. Every word he said, somehow it's still there. How he looked, how he smelled... Sometimes I look back at myself and laugh; I'm a pathetic fan girl! I mean, really, I used to laugh at those girls with the boy band pictures in their lockers. But, after all, I had a shrine in my closet. I'm not much better. I'm sorry, I do digress so often..."  
Meg smiled "No, it's okay!" She gave my bed a few sitting bounces as I looked back in disgust.  
"Are you even gonna listen to me?"  
She smiled, "Course yeah! I did wanna hear about" She put the back of her hand to her forehead for effect "Arnold" She then pretended to faint.  
"Just don't get any drool on my new bed spreads" I joked.  
Meg's jaw nearly dropped "What? Is he that fffiiinneeee?" Raking her fingers through her bobbed brown hair, she giggled "Cuz if he is... I just might have to go to Hillwood my self and meet him"  
"Paws off, sister" I said sternly "I mean, don't drool when you fall asleep. I tend to drone on and on when Arnold's the topic." I smiled to myself; it was so much easier to talk about him when I knew he was miles and miles away, and there was no chance he'd know how I still felt. But on the downside, it was harder to live when he was miles and miles away, with no chance I'd ever know if he still felt... A pillow just smacked me upside the head!  
"TALK!" Meg commanded, "Or I'll.... sit on you!"  
I rolled my eyes; that girl was a bit too perky for me at times. But she's a friend; someone to talk to. Though she'd never replace Pheebs, nuh duh. "Okay okay!" I said. "So as I was saying..."  
  
_________________________  
  
It had been the makings of another rough year. Going to the junior high included being stuck with more numbskulls at school; something I wasn't exactly looking forward to. Of course, there was the chance that a few numbskulls might actually become my friends. But knowing my track record... Phoebe is really a true blue. I know I sound like a complete fluff when I say it, but it's true. As the years passed, we grew even closer, to the point where we could finish each other's sentences. And things like that worked great when we were playing Charades... As for my other friends, we went our separate ways. You know the drill; sometimes the differences outweigh the similarities, and people just go. Even the boy who was supposedly in love with me ignored me. And no matter how hard I tried to hate him... I really tried, I just couldn't bring myself to it. And, I'm about as charming and witty as a cactus. Not your typical "Friends for Life" material.   
  
Hoooo boy, the year turned even worse. I found myself caught in a preverbal cage, bound by other's feelings about me from the past, and by first impressions. People passed me off as "Cold", "disconnected from the real world" and "raging tyrant". Oh yeah, I was popular! Uh huh... And to make matters worse... Phoebe got a boyfriend. Now, don't get me wrong, I was happy for her; she deserved all the love in the world. But he became the center of her world, and I found myself pushed to the sidelines. I didn't have anything against Nick either. Any friend of Arnold's is a friend of mine? *snort* But he hogged up all of her precious time, and I became a nearly 24-7 loner. People who hadn't talked to me in years turned on me, and I felt really alone. I lived down to everyone's expectations of me, I guess. It hurt more then I was capable of showing.   
  
The in-between classes part really got to me, when you're stuck walking with and against people you don't know, people you do know, and people you wish you didn't know. That was my little bit of forced communication. Some people smiled and said hi to me, although I don't know why. Others chose to taunt me, Harold included. He taunted me (the loser), and then hit me when I wasn't expecting it (the yellow-bellied wimp). But something good came out of it. My knight in shining armor (Or flannel, whichever you prefer) came to the rescue.   
_________________________  
Meg interrupted me when I came to this part "Oh! Lemme guess, he stomped the living daylights out of Harold!"  
I laughed "No, though I think he was about to take a swing. Actually, come to think of it, he threw a bit of a tantrum! It was funny"  
"Sounds to me like he's a wimp" Meg took a candy bar off my dresser and sat back down on my bed, "So then what happened"  
"He's **not** a wimp" I deadpanned "We ate lunch together, and I told him that I was moving. And he cared! But I only had a week left..."  
"Oh.. them's the breaks" Meg laughed "Hey, can I eat this?"  
I sighed, she was in another one of her annoying moods. "Sure, stuff your face and SHUT UP! I'm still talking!"  
" 'm shorry, ah twat that you were dhone" she apologized with a mouthful of Snickers.  
_________________________  
After the baseball game, I went home. Wahoo... my life is exciting. Bob called me Olga (as usual) and had me make dinner again, and Mirium went on another smoothy binge. My home life hadn't changed since fourth grade, it was still in a pretty sad state. I went up to my room to cogitate...  
_________________________  
"Cogitate?" Meg nearly choked on the last bite of *my* Snickers.  
"Think, you dimwit" I sighed. "You want to go home?"  
"No... not really..."  
I sighed "Well, will you anyway?"  
"Do I have to?"  
Just because someone takes a shining to you doesn't mean they're your friend... "Go." I said firmly.  
"Fine... fine!" She stomped out of my room, and my house, into the crisp Manhattan air.  
"Good riddance" I smiled to myself, then paused. "Oh great, now I have no friends again."  
_________________________  
I took apart my shrine that night, I remember. I'd kept it up for so long to remind myself of how near I had been. But still, I didn't want Big Bob to see it. So I took it piece by piece outside to a dumpster. It was like dragging my past out to the garbage. But in a funny way, I was free. I wasn't a fan-girl anymore, I wasn't a little fourth grader clinging onto something, trying to get some hope from it. I had let go of the past in some ways. But not ready to leave yet. Too many loose ends were left, needing to be tied up. And quickly. "Tomorrow's a new day" I reminded myself as I walked back to my room. "A new day..." 

  


  
  



	4. Second Guess

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Pork. Heee. Pork is evil. But you know what? Ice cream's the devil. Does to me what raspberries do to Grandpa. LOL! Are you not glad that you read the disclaimer now?

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AN: I am rewriting this sorry excuse for a chapter. If you didn't already know, I wanted this to be a sappy love story, but it took on a life of it's own and became Si-fi, so now this chapter seems lamer then lame. Here goes nuffin...

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Chapter Four: Second Guess

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I was tired of it. Tired of people second guessing me. People think that they know me, that they know what I'm planning on doing. Sometimes their answers surprise me. 

  


For example, the day before the Helga-Harold confrontation, Nadine, an old friend from elementary school came up to me with a question.

  


"You always help everyone." She had told me, nervously fiddling with her braids, "And well,"

I looked behind me to make sure that none of my new friends were there. They, well, they just didn't get along with everyone. Truth be told, I was almost afraid of being on their bad sides. 

"Come on, Nadine." I was almost impatient. "It can't be that bad."

She sighed "Some of you jock friends" she said those last two words with hatred, like the very syllables left a bitter taste in her mouth, "Well, they've been beating up Eugene."

  


I shrugged, "I'm sorry, you know there isn't really anything I can do. I've talked to them before, they said that they'd limit it." She glared at me. "I know it's not right, but I'm just one person, and they're a bunch of them."

  


"So you're not going to try." it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

  


"I never said that" I answered. "You know I hate to see my friends get creamed. Heck, that's the last thing I want to see. But you know as well as I do that" she cut me off.

  


"That we're not good enough for you now. Fine." she stopped playing with her braids and looked me straight in the eyes. "But I must admit Arnold, I expected better of you." Briskly turning on her heels, she walked off.

  


I'm not a bad guy. I actually did bring it up to some of the guys. And they actually did push me up into a locker. I probably would have been inside the locker if it weren't for Nick.

  


"Hey, chill." He commanded the two other boys, and they let go. "He won't bring it up again." As they walked away, he patted me on the back. "You have the most noble reasons, don't you? Just let it slide, trust me. Sometimes you just have to let nature run it's natural course." I smiled and muttered my thank yous. It's nice to know that someone understands what I've been going though. 

  


So, if someone understands, why can't everyone? How come people hate it when people are stereotyped, then put me in a stereotyped role to go help them? Even my best friend turned on me, the day after he had said he was proud of me. It didn't make sense, believe me, I tried to rationalize it. But still, it happened. In homeroom, the day after I found out that Helga was moving, he confronted me, shaking his head "You're losing your touch, man" he announced to me. I was at the side of the room, sharpening my pencils. I saw where Gerald had walked over from, the side of the room where Nadine and Eugene sat. Sadly, I could see I was in for a talk.  
"I had one?" I asked "On what?"  
He looked at me piteously. He seemed to always do that to me, it was always annoying. "On reality, man. You can't even carry a conversation lately. Heck, you can't even say a few things to help a friend."  
I shook my head wearily. "Yeah, not like anything I says matters. I've messed up beyond hope."   
"Now, that doesn't sound like you"  
"What am I suppose to sound like?" I muttered bitterly "No one understands me lately. People don't just stay the same all their lives, Gerald. I'm not always gonna be the stable one." I narrowed my eyes at him.   
  
"You've changed" Gerald muttered. "For the worse. I don't even feel like we're friends anymore. Until you find yourself..."  
"What does that mean??" I asked.  
"If you're so sure you've changed, man" he said solidly "I'm not so sure you're my friend." He started walking again.  
"Gerald! Please!" Man, this was a bad day. "Where the heck are you going? Homeroom's still going on."  
"Doing something I should have in fourth grade." he yelled. I watched as he walked into another homeroom. I heard the muffled sound of his voice through the door. "Yes, can I please speak to Phoebe Hyerdaul..."

  


  


  


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AN: Hey, it worked! Yay *beams*. Mmmkay, I shall continue!


	5. Follow Your Heart

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. And also in this disclaimer, I shall apologize for the other one. Ice cream is the devil, but pizza's an angel. That and pasta. Mmmm. I doubt anyone's actually reading the disclaimer. Yay!

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Chapter Five: Follow Your Heart

~*~

Point of View: Phoebe

___________________________________________________

Life kind of has a funny way of repeating itself. Murphy's law, I suppose. If any bad can happen, it most certainty will. And so I go through the same cycles day in and day out. I've worn myself into a rut, but I can proudly call it my own. A rut filled with awards, scholastic achievements and other sources of pride. Seemingly addictive, I suppose I can conclude. I remember back to fourth grade when I actually cheated to get a poetry award. Yet this was what my expectations of myself were, perfection.  
One thing in my life that was spontaneous was my best friend, Helga. She could be about as friendly as a rock, but then there were times when she'd open up. If I scoured the world for a better friend, I would most assuredly turn up with none. But even though, sometimes I felt as if I was going no where. The only guy I'd even liked went out with a girl who was new to our school in sixth grade. I was crushed, and felt even more left out then ever. In my mind's eye, there was no one more perfect for Gerald then me. But, of course, my mind's eye is partial.  
And then seventh grade, this year, someone likes me. He had the courage to tell me to my face even. I couldn't believe someone as popular and cute as Nick would even think of me. With his brown hair, and clean cut good looks, I couldn't say no. And I had managed to forget about Gerald. Until...  
  
"Yes" My homeroom teacher was talking to someone at the front of the room, and I didn't bother looking up from my book. Flipping another page, I could feel that someone was watching me. One of those sixth-sense feelings. Marking my page in the book, I looked up.  
"Phoebe," Mr. Wyatt began, looking at me through his thick glasses. "Please talk to Mr. Johansen outside the room"  
I looked over, stunned, as I saw Gerald leaning against the door frame. I nodded. "Hai", I said nervously, ignoring the strange looks people were casting my way. I got out of my seat, and walked out of the room, keeping my gaze down at my feet.  
"Phoebe? Can you look up at me?" Gerald asked kindly.  
I blushed faintly, "Gomen nasi"  
"Phoebe, please, stop with the Japanese"  
I blushed again, looking up "Gom... I mean I'm sorry. I didn't even know I was doing it." I paused for a moment "What do you need, Gerald?"   
He cleared his throat "I shoulda said this a long time ago, and I've regretted it... I like you Phoebe" He must have noticed my bug-eyed trance, because he quickly continued. "I know you're going out with Nick, and I wish you two the best of luck... but I just had to let you know. I'm sorry."  
"Gerald..." I trailed off, tears forming in my eyes, "I'm... confused... I've always liked you but..." I trailed off.  
"But there's Nick" He finished for me. "It's fine, Phoebe, I'll wait for you." He stiffly shook my hand. "Bye" And with that, he walked off. I leaned up against the door frame for support. He liked me. Wonder of wonders, I had two men who liked me. While my mind was telling me to revel in the power of it, my heart told me only of sorrow. And like a fool, I followed my heart.

  


  
  



	6. ...he stole my life...

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Got cows? Good. Now remember, without the cows, one can never say "Got Milk?" Well, unless you want goat milk. Ew, major.

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Chapter Six: ...he stole my life...

~*~

Point of View: Antagonist 

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"No way"  
  
"Uh huh"  
  
"And why should I believe you?"  
  
I waved a pack of pictures in front of his face "Photographic evidence" I smiled. I could tell he was pretty impressed.  
  
"Good work" He nodded proudly, leafing through the pictures. His sight lingered on one picture in general. I looked over his shoulder to see which one he found so interesting. Go figure, it was the picture I took through the door of the chorus room of Gerald and that Arnold fighting. A pretty darn good picture, if I do say so myself. Funny how little plans can expand so easily! It was so simple at first; lure Arnold into the "in" crowd and watch him try to keep his head above water. But it became so much more. Slowly but surely, he began to disconnect himself from his real friends. Only one person stayed in the way of this plan. Gerald. I don't think too highly of him either. He was the one person who kept Arnold from falling completely in over his head. I needed to do something to make him drown under the sea of "Junior High" also. And who better then the love of his life, Phoebe, to watch him drown, and help him fall.   
  
I love the way my mind works.  
  
So then, you ask, who am I sharing my photos with? The school's basketball coach, of course. After some long talks, I convinced him that Arnold's friends were holding him back and robbing him of his true potential as a high-scoring member of our basketball team. So I've got an adult ally. Sure, I'm going to dump him as soon as my plans succeed, but he needs not know.   
  
And why, you ask. Why would I want to make such a _nice_, _good_ boy's life miserable? Another logical, simple reason.  
  
_He stole my life!_  
  
___________________________________________________

Point of View: Arnold

___________________________________________________

  
  


She was gone. I watched as the Pataki's car slowly pulled away and chugged off, with a forlorn looking Helga waving weakly at me from out the window. "I'll write!" she yelled out the window.  
  
"Crimany, Helga, roll up the window! You're letting the air conditioning out!!!"  
  
"Yes BOB"  
  
So that was it. The end. At least for me. I lost my best friend and my love...er... at least I hoped she would have been... The only friend I really had left was Nick. Thank goodness for that, at least someone hasn't abandoned me.  
  
_"But Helga didn't abandon me"_ I thought to myself, but it didn't quite seem true. Just when I found her again, she was gone. I felt alone right then, forgotten by the world. Slowly, I walked back to the boarding house. Abner, my pet pig, greeted me at the door, seeming to notice how distraught i was.   
  
"Hey short man! Your weird friend with the bowl cut's on the phone for ya" Grandpa greeted me. I figured he was talking about Nick. I petted Abner a few more times, then picked up the phone.  
  
" 'lo?"  
  
"Hey man! It's me, Nick"  
  
"Hey, Nick!"  
  
"I'm just calling to say I'm sorry about the fight between you and Gerald."  
  
"You heard?"   
  
"Yeah, news travels fast." There was a pause on the end of the line. "Hey, coach has a few more spots left on the basketball team if you want to try out." I thought about that for a second. I had always been afraid of sports taking up too much of my free time, especially on the weekends. Weekends were really the only free time I had to hang out with Gerald. _"But he hates me"_ I reminded myself. "Sure Nick. Tell coach I'm there"  
  
"Great! Catch ya tomorrow, Arnold!"  
  
"yeah, great. Bye." I mumbled, hanging up. "No Gerald, no Helga," I sighed, "And when it rains, it pours."

  


  
  



	7. Flashing

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Got cows? Good. Now remember, without the cows, one can never say "Got Milk?" Well, unless you want goat milk. Ew, major.

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Seven: Flashing

~*~

Point of View: Nick

___________________________________________________

_FLASHBACK (or shall we say, flash forward?):   
  
"You're in, Nick!" One of my team mates called to me. Smiling, I took my towel off of my neck and entered the basketball game. As this was the last game of my   
High School career, I was glad to finally be back in. Rumor had it that college scouts were in the bleachers, and I knew I could wow 'em.   
  
The game went on from there. We were down by ten points from the other team. And so it continued. (All that happened before this point has no meaning to me.)   
Our team took a time-out, and from here... oh yes, from here my life took a downfall.   
  
"We need to get Arnold in the game" Our coach said to us in the huddle. "He's our most consistent player."   
  
"But other's need the game time too" Arnold explained to the coach, but he would hear none of it.   
  
Finally, I relented. "I'll get out. Go win the big one for us, Arnold!" He gave me one of those huge smiled that covered his entire football head, and ran into the   
game with the rest of the team. I leaned back in my seat, waiting to watch the scoreboard rack up a few more for our side.   
  
That's when I saw her.   
  
Her golden hair around her shoulders reminded me of a halo, and her smile of the sun. An empty seat next to her assured me she was with no one else. "Maybe   
I'll talk to her after the game..." I pondered, looking back at the woman once more. But with two words, my hopes were dashed.   
  
"GO ARNOLD!!!!" she hollered, whipping one arm around her head in a war-like motion. I sighed and looked back down at my shoes. _

  


_**EVEN DEEPER INTO THE FUTURE:   
  
And needless to say, there were scouts in the bleachers. Arnold made a very prestigious college team, and I made none. Seems I wasn't in the game long   
enough for a decision to be made about me. And the blonde I saw that day (whom I assume to be a gold digger... only going after the best players...) she   
married him. He had the perfect life... the perfect job... the perfect spouse. I GAVE THAT TO HIM! I LET HIM PLAY! And what do I have to show for it?   
  
The old saying rings ever true... nice guys finish last. **_

  
  


  
  


  
  


___________________________________________________

Still in the Future

~*~

Point of View: Helga

___________________________________________________

  
  


The morning coffee made a ring on my morning newspaper. I don't really read the newspaper very much, but I like to check out the date in the corner. Sometimes days meld together in my mind, and the date often escapes me.  
  
"March 30th, 2013" I read to myself.   
  
"Helga dear, is breakfast ready?" I heard my husband ask from the other room. I heard our child laugh. It's nice to know that my little girl will have a father who cares about her, and like now, plays with her. That's something I never had.  
  
"Yes. Cream dried beef on toast sound good?"  
  
Arnold walked into the room, carrying our one year old daughter, Princess, in his arms. "Sounds great!" He exclaimed, pecking me on the cheek as he put 'Cess (as we lovingly called her) in her seat. I glanced back at the newspaper.  
  
"Interesting headline today. 'Time Machine Stolen from Hyerdaul-Johanson Labs'" I gasped as I read it again. "That's Phoebe's lab!" Phoebe had grown up to be a highly respected scientist, with her soon-to-be-husband at her side.   
  
"But who would do such a thing?" Arnold asked as he spooned some mushy bananas into Princess' mouth.  
  
"Only someone without a heart." I muttered angerly, banging the table with my fist. Arnold, as wonderful as ever, looked up at me worried. I sighed and unclenched my fist. Old habits die hard. 


	8. Life

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Meep!

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Eight: Life

~*~

Point of View: Helga

  


(An: A pointless chapter, read on if you dare! :D)

___________________________________________________

"This is the place" I looked up from my directions and double checked one more time. "Seven oh Five Soaring Circle". One of the kids from my new school was   
throwing a party, and everyone was invited. I figured I might as well come, I might make some friends. Poised at the wooden door, it swung open before I could   
knock. A girl with her long brown hair in a high pony-tail answered the door.  
  
"Come on in... we don't bite!"  
  
I smiled, she seemed to be good company. "Well darn, I do." I joked. She laughed as I walked in. "So, nice place you have here." I inspected the beautiful wooden  
interior of the house.   
  
"I don't live here. I was just closest to the door."  
  
"oh." I mumbled, feeling like an idiot.  
  
"So, you're new? Tough luck, being the middle of the year and all. Where are you from anyway?"  
  
I desided not to go too into detail yet. "Places." I said slyly, trying to divert my way out of the topic.  
  
"Places? I went there once. You think that's great? You should see Things!" She quipped. "Alright... no questions for the new girl. Do you have a name?"  
  
"Isn't that a question?"  
  
"Isn't what a question?" she asked back  
  
. "Are you playing dumb?"  
  
"Do your ears hang low?"   
  
"WHO'S LINE IS IT ANYWAYS?" I yelled, flinging my hands in the air.  
  
"My name's Jill." She smiled, putting her hand out.  
  
"Helga." I said with a half smile, shaking her hand.  
  
  
  
Maybe there is life after Hillwood.  
  
  
  
We walked further into the house. A kitchen was at the end of the hallway, and the counter was covered in snacks.   
  
"Behold the never-ending amount of food." Jill announced with a flourish.  
  
"Who would want to buy all of this stuff anyway?" I asked, picking up a bag. "I mean, look. Pork Rinds. Not good."  
  
"I think they are" We turned behind us to see a gal with short blonde hair... and okay, so everything about her was semi-short. "Hi. It's my party!"  
  
"And you'll cry if you want to." Jill finished.  
  
"You would cry too if it happened to you!" They sang together. The blonde laughed, and stood up straight.   
"Hi, I'm Sam" she announced. She seemed pretty perky. Not really my type. But then again, no one here seemed to have a nice, biting sense of sarcasm anyway.  
But company is company, and they didn't seem annoying as of yet. So... you never know.   
  
So, here's my new life. Funny, I don't look any different, but I know a part of me is gone. A part of me is back in my old closet in my old house wondering where   
the heck my Arnold is, what he's doing, if he cares about me. Maybe I'll find it again some day, that part of me. But for now, I'll stick to walking through life   
half-asleep...   
  
Maybe I can convince myself I'm dreaming.

  


  


LATER....

The party was fun. I made new friends. I should be happy. Then how come I'm not?  
  
Simple. Everyone seems to be hooked up, and the closest thing I am to love is miles and miles away.   
  
Funny how one thing can get in the way of life?  
  
The beeper business is going fine. Dad's loving the new location. He told me that one of my schoolmate's father used to own the land here in New York, and gave my dad a good deal on it. Mr. Samson, he said his name was... Nick Samson's father.   
  
I pulled out my diary and a pen as I made my way to my bed. My room's slightly smaller then my old room, and I don't have a walk-in closet. But hey, that's life. I pondered for a few moments, then began to write.  
  
"I wish we were close  
but we're miles away."  
  
The rest of the words refused to come out as I cried, the tears spilling onto the fresh piece of paper.  
  
"And nothing to bridge   
the expanse between us.  
A love that I could boast  
of gone astray  
and nothing to live  
for, now there's no hope to lead us.   
  
I wish we had love  
but we've grown too far away,  
and no lonely heart  
needs reminder of that.  
I wish to above  
that perhaps we could stay  
where our love did first start,  
Yet now, there's no chance of that.  
  
Miles away...  
I wanted to stay...  
but we're miles away"  
  
  
"And that just about sums it up" I mumbled, wiping the tears off of my face with the sleeve of my shirt.   
  
"And my life will go on,  
Forget you I must.  
I can't stay here  
Wanting you like the dawn  
while we're scattered like dust.  
I can't have you near,  
and that has to be enough  
I must move on.  
My hope I will regain  
and I'll sing a new song." 

  


(AN: Just reading back over this is painful. Dang, I suck at writing!!!!!)


	9. Nothing

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Meep!

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Nine:Nothing

~*~

Point of View: Third Person Past Tense, because the author really bites!

Future

___________________________________________________

  


Steam rose like a pale ghost from the small tea cup. Nervously, the raven-haired woman who was holding it stirred a lump of sugar into the drink. "Yes, the time machine was stolen, about two this morning, from surveillance tapes." she said. Although her voice was controlled, the clattering of the cup as she tried to keep it on it's saucer proved otherwise. Beside her, a man with coffee colored skin and very tall hair nodded.   
"We could always build a new one, we still have our papers. It's not a matter of that. Someone who would just burst into a building like that does not have good intentions. Whatever he's planning on doing in the past will directly effect us now. And the frightening thing is, we have no control over it." He looked over at his soon-to-be-wife, who was sobbing. "But we'll build another one, Phoebes. We'll stop 'em."  
"I'm afraid it'll be too late..." she whispered.  
Helga looked up from her cup of tea. Readjusting herself on the brown leather couch, she looked back up at her best friend. "So, you said that you had a surveillance camera? So you got a good picture of the idiot who did this."  
Phoebe nodded. "Well, not an extremely good picture, he was dressed in black with a ski mask. We gave the pictures to police, who're investigating now."  
"But," Arnold began, "In many novels I've read, people held the beliefs that if someone from the past saw their future self, something tragic would happen."  
Phoebe fidgeted in her chair, as Gerald answered. "You see, we didn't want to risk that either. So... when they go back in time, their future minds are embedded into their past bodies until whatever they've set out to accomplish is done."  
A long silence followed as fear struck their hearts. The unknown had the ability to do that to one. Could everything that they lived for really be affected by one person?  
  
  
  
___________________________________________________

  


Present times

___________________________________________________  
  
"Everything had changed. Friendships had blow away like dust in wind. Like everything I had ever found comfort in had betrayed me, as if the sands of time scattered all around him, and I'm now alone."   
"Wow, I should really be writing poetry now" Arnold joked to himself. But quickly his good mood passed away as he looked across his bedroom. It had not really changed, even though the boarding house changed hands after his grandmother's death just last year, and his grandpa's admittance into a nursing home. The new owner of the boarding house even let Arnold stay for free, joking lightly that her deserved it after all he had gone through with the boarders. Yes, Ernie, Suzie, Mr. Hyun and Oscar were all still there, and were finally getting used to the changes going on (and the bathroom being open more often). "Am I just afraid of change?" he asked himself. He shook his head no. "This just doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right anymore. Maybe nothing's really changed...  
  
  
Maybe it's me."  
He paused. "They always said I was dense." And thus, this became his mantra, a little excuse which went a long way.  
  
Looking at the pictures on his desk, he smiled at the old ones he'd pulled out. Of a fifth grade Helga and himself goofing around, hogging the camera. Of a fourth grade Helga shoving her fist into the camera, and of the seventh grade Helga just days before she left. He wondered about her often. She haunted his dreams many a night. Words he had said in the past coming back to beat him.   
  
___________________________________________________

Flash back to Fourth Grade

___________________________________________________  
Gerald smiled "Anyway, congrats on you and Helga. Phoebe says she's really great when she opens up."  
  
"We're not going out" Arnold sighed "I don't want to hurt her, so we're going to wait. After all, we're in fourth grade. Our whole lives are ahead of us."  
  
___________________________________________________

Flash Forward

___________________________________________________  
  
"I was never good enough for her. She's probably moved on by now, found someone new in New York. I've made too many mistakes to deserve her."  
  
___________________________________________________

Flash back to Fourth Grade

___________________________________________________  
She looked free, for once in her life. Happy, like she'd found her safe haven, hidden deep inside the lyrics and mingled with the melody...  
  
"Words unspoken, tears unseen  
a broken heart with broken dreams  
one look at you and I mount on the wings of a dove...  
I'm so in love..."  
  
She scanned the audience, surprised to see them swaying in time to her slow song.  
  
"I wanna walk a mile in your shoes  
to know how you make me feel this way  
I want you to feel every emotion I've felt  
When you've just come up to say  
hello  
so you know  
though it never shows  
cuz my pride always stands in the way  
there's something that I've always wanted to say..."  
  
She stopped scanning her audience, and let her eyes rest on Arnold.  
"I love you"  
  
___________________________________________________

Flash Forward once again to present times

___________________________________________________  
  
"I'm not going to cry... I'm not going to cry..." but his emotions betrayed him as he flopped down on his bed. "My life is over."  
  
  
___________________________________________________

Future

___________________________________________________  
  
"Arnold?" Helga asked, looking frantic. "Honey, you don't look too well..."  
Trying to ignore the pain in his chest for the sake of his wife, he managed a half smile. "I'm okay, dear. How about you lead Phoebe and Gerald to the door." After making sure that Helga was out of the room, he let go of his composure, grasping his chest in agony. "Dear God, it feels like it's on fire!" he prayed. "Make it stop!" He fell to the ground, then nothingness.   
  
"Where am I?" his own voice echoed around the room, proving it to be empty. The sound of his breath in his ears rang loud as he opened his eyes. Nothing. He was in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around him. He had seemingly ceased to exist. 

  



	10. Turning Points

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Meep!

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Ten: Turning Points

___________________________________________________

Gomen- sorry  
Hai- yes  
konbanha- Good Evening  
___________________________________________________  
Future, new location...

___________________________________________________  
  
Minutes seemed like hours. "Time probably doesn't exist here." Arnold mumbled to himself, looking out across the oblivion. "But where is here? Am I dead? Am I in a coma? AM I INSANE???" His last word echoed around the room as if taunting him. Carefully, he stood up, afraid to note that his feet were standing on, of course, nothing. He was standing on nothing, in nothing, walking nowhere. "Wow, the irony is sickening!" he joked. But all too soon, the seriousness of his condition sank in. "HELGA!" he sobbed for his dear-loved wife, "Princess!!" Sobbing again for his precious daughter. He remembered how Helga had named their child with a promise that she wouldn't grow up like Helga herself did, with all the insecurities and pains. "I won't get to see my girl grow up! I won't get to see he first steps, her first words... read her Helga's stories..." He closed his eyes, fearing to believe in the oblivion surrounding him.   
  
___________________________________________________

Present

___________________________________________________  
  
Suitcases piled up on his bed. Clothing not-so-carefully put into it. "I can't believe I'm doing this..." Arnold muttered to himself, but he knew it was the right thing to do. "Please let it not be too late..." he carefully picked up his airplane ticket and examined it.   
One way flight to New York.  
  
  
___________________________________________________

Present times

___________________________________________________  
  
Dress pressed? Yes. Hair fine? She looked into a mirror and grinned at what she saw. "Check, hair!" Slicking her raven hair back, she grabbed her purse and bolted to the door.  
"Phoebe, doll, is Nick commin' over tonight?" Phoebe's mom asked as she watched her daughter's frenzy. Phoebe blushed and turned away from the door.   
"Gomen, mother, but tonight is fairly... personal..." she nodded slowly. "I pray that's all right."  
Her mom laughed. "Aw, dear, that's just fine! You know we 'xpect you home by eleven. Have a nice night, pumpkin!"   
"Hai, mother" Phoebe smiled as she closed the door behind her. Her mom sighed.  
"That girl! Sweet as apple pie, but I swear, she needs to loosen up!"  
  
The night air felt cool and brisk against her fair face as she walked down the street. So many thoughts crossed her mind... two loves, one heart broken, she prayed it wasn't her own. Yet she knew in her heart of hearts she was doing the right thing that night, there was no need to hide, she should be proud. With a smile, she continued her journey under the star and lamp lit evening sky.  
"It's been awhile" she admitted to herself "since I've been to this part of the town." She stopped shortly in front of an old house. A few coats of a new color of paint and a sold sign in front of if, and still she could tell what it was. "I miss Helga..." she sighed, reminding herself that she owed her dear friend a phone call. She continued on down the street.   
"Here goes nothing..." the sidewalk seemed to go on for miles in her mind, up three stairs, to the front door, all of it seemed to take an eternity. "Like a walk down the aisle?" she asked herself a bit bitterly as she rang the doorbell. A familiar face, an old friend's father opened the door.  
"Konbanha, Mr. Johanson. Forgive me for disturbing you and your family, but is Gerald home?"  
  
  
___________________________________________________

Present times, Manhattan

___________________________________________________  
  
Books were strewn across her new room, and it had finally begun to feel at home. Yes, everything about the old city seemed to fit her now, like an old glove. Sure, there were some things that would never feel like home, but she had decided not to dwell on those things.  
"My, what a well adjusted girl you are!" she joked to herself, fixing her long, blonde hair in the mirror. She looked back down at the knee length pink dress and smiled, swaying side to side a few times to see how it looked. "Finally, a date! Haven't been on one of these in a while!" And yes, it was true, some new friends (namely Jill and Sam) had hooked her up on a blind date with a guy with a reported "Lovely since of humor" and "The most charming smile!"  
"So, exactly how ugly is he?" Helga asked as the other two girls laughed.  
"Trust us, we're the experts!" Jill nodded, leaving Helga to wonder why THEY didn't have a boyfriend then.  
"Only a few more hours, Helga ol girl. Now's not the time to chicken out..."  
  
  
  
___________________________________________________

Point of View: Antagonist/Protagonist 

(AN: You'll get it next chapter, honest!)  
___________________________________________________  
"STOP IT!" I yelled as loudly as I could, but I don't think he heard me. He said he knew me better then anyone else, said that this was for MY good, but I don't understand...  
He just took over, said he knew my future, and said he could make it brighter. He didn't ask, he just walked right in, made himself at home, took control. He never listens when I beg for him to stop it, to leave my friends alone. When I tell him that I don't care how my future ends up, he laughs.   
I lost control of my body at the beginning of this year to my future self. I'm a back seat driver now. I never did like back seat drivers, but that's what I am. "No, don't do that! Don't run over the poor helpless squirrel", but you know that never does any good. No one likes the back seat driver...  
So I'm stuck here, forced to watch MYSELF plot pain on my friends... but there's one thing I know, and it makes me glad that my future self never listens.  
The playing field is even, and debts will be paid where debt is due. 

  



	11. Hyper Friends to the Rescue!

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Cheese is good. Yep.

___________________________________________________

AN: Things are picking up! Please REVIEW to tell me if you get lost. I had a feeling people were, thus the reformatted version!

___________________________________________________

Chapter Eleven: Hyper Friends to the Rescue!

~*~

Future

___________________________________________________

  


  


  


Helga watched as Gerald supported Phoebe on her way back to their car. Gently closing the door behind herself, she turned back to the family room.

"Arnold dear?" she asked, peaking her head in. He wasn't there. Frantically, she ran from room to room, calling his name. Something wasn't right. Something felt awry, frighteningly so. She held my dear daughter close to her as she continued her search. 

"Darling, are you on the pot?" Helga asked, putting an ear up to the bathroom door. No sound. "Where the heck did he go?" She pondered. "Do you know where your daddy went?" She asked in the voice all adults talk to babies in as she looked down at...

Princess was gone, her pale pink blanket the only sign of her being there floating down like a vague ghost to the cold tile floor. The last thing I saw before she plunged head first into the ice cold oblivion. 

  


___________________________________________________

Present Times

Point of View: Protagonist/Antagonist

___________________________________________________

  


"Congratulations" I thought as I patted myself on the back. "Arnold's secluded from his friends. Things _must_ be as they should now!" My room was dark except for one lone lamp over the chair where I sat. Glancing over the walls, memories washed over me. I saw the poster I had gotten from a baseball game I watched with my father all those years ago, before he died tragically of a heart attack in 2004.

  


_"STOP IT!"_ It was the stupid voice again. Myself, at a younger age. Well, I suppose myself at my current age. Johanssen and Hyerdaul aren't idiots, they knew that something tragic could happen if past and future versions of one person saw each other.

  


_"As if you don't call this tragic?" _I had forgotten that he could read my thoughts. 

"Pipe down! This is for your own good, as I've already told you." I scoffed, "I can't believe I was ever this ungrateful! All I'm doing is righting wrongs."

  


_"I can't believe I grew up to be..."_ He trailed off. _"To be you!"_ he said "you" as if it was something vile and disgusting, like something he abhorred with all his being. _"You've taken my friends away... can you say that you've never had good memories of school? Never had good memories of Arnold and the basketball team?"_

  


"This is different." I insisted, but he continued.

_"_

_And what about last year? We beat those tenth graders, remember? Arnold passed me... you.... us the ball, and er... we shot it at the three point line with seconds left in the game? You can't tell me that you don't remember that! You can't tell me that..."_

I interrupted "I can tell you that you grow up to work in a soda factory. You screw the caps onto sodas all day long!" (AN: I'm pathetic, I'm trying to slip some humor in...)

  


_"If it's something I did without making anyone's lives hell, then so be it."_ He sounded so assured, I sort of missed that.

"Arnold got everything. The scholarships, the fame, the woman of his dreams, all because of something I did for him! That's not happening this time around!"

  


The younger me was silent for a few moments, then sighed. _"All I can say is that things will work out in the end. And not for YOUR good."_

  


I sneered "Then you're coming down with me, you know that, right Nick?"

  


_"Whatever." _He mumbled, _"but you've been forewarned."_

  


It's a funny thing, fighting against yourself. But I had to remember, I was the older one. I knew best. Time would yield to me, and fate kneel and do my bidding. 

  


___________________________________________________

Present Day

Point of View: Arnold

___________________________________________________

"Peanuts sir?" The voice of an annoying flight attendant shook me from my reverie. 

  


"Pardon?" I asked, snapping up.

  


"Peanuts, sir?" She barked. Sometimes those flight attendants could get cranky. Best not to get on their bad side.

  


"Yes, please." I nodded, and she chucked a pack at me. She began to walk to to back of the plane briskly. "Uh, thank you!?" I shouted after her, but she ignored me. 

  


So why was I on this plane with such cheap service? Because, well, the tickets were cheap! Also, it was the best I could do on such short notice.

  


The flight attendant was back again. "Hey football face." The way she addressed me reminded me just who I was going to see. She gave me a can of soda. "Wash those peanuts down with this. The people in the third row said that they were spicy." I looked to the third row to see a man and a woman guzzling soda after soda, a pile of cans at their feet.

  


"Um, thank you for the warning ma'am." I said politely.

  


She rolled her eyes, flicking a strand of brown hair away from her face. "Whatever, kid."

I remembered the email that sent me here clearly. I had opened it just the day before, right after basketball practice.

(AN: As far as I know, there are no web sites like this, so... lol, don't try to email them...)

_**From: i_eat_porkrinds@yapoop.com**_

_**To: Bluehat_bball_boy@basketballrocks.com**_

_**Subject: **Helga!_

  


_Hey Arnold! You have no clue who we are! Fun, eh? Anyhow, I'm Jill... ack, and Samantha (Sam for short) is behind me helping to dictate this._

_Sam: HEY!!!!!_

_Ahem. Anyway, don't get alarmed, we jacked your email address from Helga's address book. Fun fun! Anyhow, we think you should get your butt down here! Helga's our friend, and we just want to do something to help her. Anyway... Helga's got your home address in her address book, so we over-nighted you a one way ticket to New York. (it's all our allowances can take) Anyhow, we've set her up on a blind date with someone with a "good personality". In other words, she has some low expectations for then. We trust you'll rise above them? _

_Sam: Yay! _

_Anyhow, sorry to bother you..._

_Sam: We're not bothering him, silly Jilly!_

_-_-() aannnyywaaaay... Be looking in your mail!_

  


_Until then,_

_Jill (OOH, Don't forget me!!!!!!!!)_

_and Sam_

  


I remember thinking "These are HELGA's friends????" but of course, I never did understand her, why try and second guess now? The flight attendant was back again, this time with a brown paper sack.

"We're landing now, rugby head." she muttered, chucking the bag at me. "Use this while you barf, our pilot is just learning how to properly land. And buckle up, you ninny!"

  


  


This was gonna be something else... 

  


  



	12. For Each Other

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Also, if you took the time to read my disclaimers, :D, well, yay for you! 

___________________________________________________

AN: Things are picking up! Please REVIEW to tell me if you get lost. I had a feeling people were, thus the reformatted version!

___________________________________________________

Chapter Twelve: For Each Other

~*~

Point of View: Arnold

Time: Future

Location: The Oblivion

___________________________________________________

  


I opened my eyes slowly after hearing a thump. Could someone else have landed here with me? I hoped so, something or someone to make the oblivion less tormenting. Immediately I took the words back. What if it was someone I loved stuck in this awful place with me? I could hear them now, a distinct sobbing. Gathering my courage, I turned around. "Come on Arnold, ol boy" I encouraged myself "Perhaps they know the way out of here." Walking on nothing is a bit tricky, but with the sobbing figure dressed in pink before me, it was easy to gage my distance. Indeed, I was moving.   
Closer I trudged, my feet making no sound as I walked over a smooth surface of air. I had become used to this after about two hours in this... place, although looking down is still quite a daunting task. I looked ahead at the still closer woman. Stopping dead in my tracks, I too began to weep. The golden haired woman before me, grasping tightly a pink blanket, was the last person I wanted here.   
  
"Helga! How the heck did..." I trailed off, voice choked with emotion. "Why are you..."   
She looked back up at me, eyes blank from any emotion. She blinked slowly, and then spoke. "Do I know you?"  
  
___________________________________________________

Future Still

Point of View: Gerald 

___________________________________________________  
  
  
We had sped home, probably broke some driving laws, namely speeding and running lights, but we had to. My dear wife, Phoebe had just reached a dreadful, but very plausible conclusion.  
"The chance" she explained as we got into our car after talking to Arnold and Helga, "The chance, of whomever stole our time machine, of them using it against our past selves is likely."  
  
I opened the car door for her, trying to calm her down. "Don't be foolish, it's most likely someone we don't even know!"  
  
"I understand" Phoebe continued, buckling herself up and closing the car door. "But do recall our passwords." In order for the thief to penetrate our system, he or she needed three passwords to get inside. My eyes got wide as I backed out of the driveway.   
"Our school name, our graduation year..." I trailed off. "But those would have been fairly easy to do with the correct information..."  
  
"And one last one" Phoebe reminded me. "Cocoahut"  
  
As I sped home, I recalled why that had been a password. Along with being fairly hard to guess, it was a word of great meaning to Arnold and Helga, and with them being our best friends, it had also became meaningful to us. It was the name of our after school hang out of sorts at our elementary school, PS 118. The very same place where Helga first sang a song she had written, and Arnold, in turn, had read a poem. Needless to say, both wrote about each other, and it was basically the start of, well, everything. After a bit of an estrangement through 5th and 6th grade, claiming everything had become just too "Awkward", they picked up where they left off in 7th grade.  
As I parked in the lot beside our lab, I pondered, who would want to do this, and why? Phoebe grabbed my arm.  
  
"We've got no time to lose" she asserted, pulling out her identification badge and running it through a slot in the door.   
  
"Access granted" an automated voice affirmed as the door swung open.   
  
As we walked inside, Phoebe finished her thought "We must make another time machine."  
  
I, as always, was skeptical "We don't have that much time." We stopped at a second door, and Phoebe began to type passwords in.  
"No," She reminded me as she typed, "There's only one feature that would take us long to make." The door swung open and we stepped into the main lab section. "And we can do without it."  
  
I gasped. "But without the final feature, our entire bodies get sent back, and the possibility..."  
  
"Of meeting up with our younger selves and causing some chain reaction that would cause us to cease to exist?" She finished for me, hands shaking. "Ah, the joys of science. Still, we have no time, it must be done."  
  
I sighed and pulled her close "Carpe Diem?"   
  
A few tears escaped from behind her glasses. "Yes, seize the day, who knows how many we have left?"  
  
___________________________________________________

Present Times

___________________________________________________  
"Please, come in!" Mr. Johanson said, stepping aside so Phoebe could walk past. She straightened her skirt and whispered her thank yous as she walked.  
  
"Gerald's um... well..." Mr. Johanson laughed. From upstairs, the sound of running water rang, and above it was a fairly impressive bass voice. Phoebe joined Mr. Johanson in nervous laughter.  
  
"Ah, he's in the shower." Phoebe blushed.   
  
Mr. Johanson winked at her. "How about you wait outside the door?"  
  
"I probably shouldn't..." Phoebe trailed off.  
  
Mr. Johanson smiled "Don't worry, he gets changed in the bathroom too." Phoebe shook her head, then shook Mr. Johanson's hand.  
  
"Thank you, sir. And sorry for bothering you this evening." she apologized, beginning to walk up the stairs.  
  
"No trouble a'tall. Truth be told, we've missed you and your visits."  
  
"I promise to come more often, then!" Phoebe grinned widely, and finished walking up the stairs. A few doors down the hallway was the source of the sound. She shook her head once more as she heard Gerald start up a new song. It sounded familiar, almost Western-y, but still familiar.   
  
"I'm here waiting for another chance," He sang in his smooth bass, oblivious to anyone listening,  
"Last I saw it, it passed me by.  
Now I wait here for a second glance  
of what I coulda' hand, and why?  
Why am I always looking behind me?  
Why not ahead, or up above?  
But down the road, past my memories,  
Through the streams, and to my love..."   
  
Phoebe sighed, then remembered the oddity of the situation she was in. "I hope he gets out of there soon."  
  
"Cuz time stood still when I last saw you" He continued,  
"And time is something I can't control.  
I'm living in the moment from where you said goodbye,  
Reaching forward towards my goal.  
Now I can't stop the sands of time that scatter 'round me,  
Nor could you see the tears in my eyes..." The water turned off at this point.  
"I'm praying for a second chance to find myself with you..." this line was muffled, Phoebe noted. "But I'm livin' in the moment..." The door knob clicked and the door swung open.  
  
"You said goodbye." Phoebe finished, then couldn't contain herself. She burst out into a fit of giggles. "You sing in the shower?"  
  
Gerald blushed, looking down at his blue jeans and basketball jersey. "Yeah, so?" He then looked back up at Phoebe, who quickly gave him a hug. She noted that his hair stuck out every which way like an afro gone bad. Noticing this, he broke away from her embrace and finger combed it up in it's normal style.   
  
"And why were you standing out there?" He tapped his foot in a lame attempt to be angry.  
  
Phoebe grinned, stepping backwards. "Would you believe your father told me to?"  
  
Gerald raised an eyebrow, "No, but if you say so..."  
  
Phoebe blushed and began to apologize in Japanese. Gerald laughed.  
  
"No, no. No worries, you're okay. It's fine" he said over her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "So, why are you here?"  
  
Clearing her throat, she began. "I've had a lot of time to think about, well, everything and..." she sighed "I broke up with Nick."  
  
"You WHAT???" Gerald seemed semi-happy with this, but still shocked.  
  
"He wasn't home, so I broke up via answering machine. He should know by now."  
  
Gerald shook his head. "Phoebe, you're a smart girl,you should know that isn't the best way to end a relationship."  
  
"Oh, like you should know, Mr 'dates the first hussy he sees, then dumps her like a sack of manure'." Phoebe huffed back, angered.   
  
"I know I don't have the best track record. And yeah, I've dated my fair share of hussies. But I was never in a serious relationship like you considered yourself and Nick to be in."  
  
"We bickered like we were married, Gerald. We never let anyone see. We didn't have anything. It was just the easier way to go." Phoebe sighed, and Gerald nodded, understandingly.  
  
"I suppose you'd know best." he noted.  
  
Looking up, Phoebe smiled a little. "I've always wondered why the heck you went out with that one girl in sixth grade. What was her name? Sara? No, um... Sally..." She teased Gerald.  
  
"Sylvia. And that's a name I'd like to forget, mind you." He laughed, remembering the pretty blonde that stuck to him like glue. "She was a no brainer. Really, she was." He gently grabbed Phoebe's arm and led her down the stairs.  
  
"She must have been, to go out with you..." she trailed off.  
  
"Hey now!"  
  
"You didn't let me finish! She must have been, because I thought any fool could see that we..." she blushed and mumbled the end of her statement.  
  
"Pardon?" Gerald and Phoebe had reached the bottom of the stairs now. She spun to face him with new confidence.  
  
"Because any fool could see that we were made for each other." 

  



	13. Death

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Oatmeal and cheese... oatmeal and cheese.... la dee da deee daaaahhhhh. Mooo. Muh? Elephant! Er, yeah. Right on.

___________________________________________________

AN: And the plot thickens like Easy Mac! W00t! Many loose ends get all tied up in this chapter, all pppuuurrrdddyyy like (I hope...) And forgive me, I don't know much about planes. If it doesn't make sense, remember how crappy of a plane it is!

___________________________________________________

Chapter Thirteen: Death

~*~

Point of View: Arnold

Time: Future

Location: The Oblivion

___________________________________________________

  
  


I gasped, looking back at my wife, who was holding our daughter's blanket. This had to be some kind of joke, how could she not know me? The same girl who had built shrines to me back when she was younger. "You don't who I am." I didn't ask her, I stated it. 

"Should I?" She asked back, and I shuddered. "After all the crap you put me through, Alfred," she sneered, using the name for me that her father had called me by, "I waited years. You never called. Not once. You told me you cared..." she continued to ramble on this topic. I stopped her quickly. "

What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked, worried. 

"Oh that's right, Einstein, you obviously don't remember me. You barely even waved goodbye to me when I moved to New York all those years ago. You never called. You never wrote. You never cared." 

I closed my eyes, trying to remain calm, "Helga, please, just tell me how you got here! I want to help!" She looked me square in the eyes. "You didn't even bother to come to my funeral. Nothing turned out as it should have, Arnold. Nothing. The timeline was broken, I didn't get to go to heaven. I was put here, Arnold. If you hadn't broken it, Arnold..." she sobbed. "And look at you, you don't care. You just don't care." 

"Please, trust me." I whispered into her ear. "Why did she have Princess's blanket then?" I pondered silently. "If I'm from the true timeline, why am I here instead of me from the alternate timeline?" Helga began to cry a little louder. "And... " she sniffed "You musta' died too. How?" 

"I didn't die, Helga, I'm from the real timeline." 

"If was all real, Arnold. I'm real, you're real. You died Arnold. You're dead, just like me. Our hearts, Arnold. It's our hearts. We couldn't take it anymore. We could never be apart." 

I looked down at the fading, worn, pink blanket in Helga's hands. "And if we died, our daughter would never be born..."

Helga half smiled "I think I'd rather like your timeline, if I wasn't so... ugh at you." 

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to you, but the same, I'm sorry." I paused. "Wait, if I died in both timelines, how come there isn't two if me? Or if there isn't two of me, why don't I know the other reality along with my own?" 

"You do, Arnold. You're not looking hard enough." She scoffed, as if it was obvious. I was torn. What had I done to ever hurt her like this? I tried to concentrate and remember his other-timeline actions, but to no avail. Sadly, I looked up. She was facing away from me now.

"Why are you mad at me? You know both timelines, Helga. I've been a faithful husband, please," I paused to think, then said the only words that could even began to describe... "Please, don't hate me!" 

She turned back around, lowering your eyes. Her voice was cold. "There's someone in our pasts that shouldn't be there. Someone who doesn't want us to be together." She took a deep breath. "But I have a hunch, Arnold, he didn't know what he was getting into. He didn't want us dead. He wanted us to suffer." 

"Pardon???" 

"Look inside, Arnold. Tell me, please" Helga was beginning to sob again. "Tell me if could be anything other then that." Her voice grew grave. "But if you did, Arnold, you'd be fooling yourself. You might be good at that, but you can **never **fool me."

  


I closed my eyes once more, concentrating as hard as I could. "Give me something to go on, Helga." I said softer then I had anticipated to. I got a little louder. "Around the time you think the timelines split."

  


"Seventh grade, Arnold. Think seventh grade."

  


Seventh grade. It had been a good year, as I recall, of course, the fond times that I recalled were from my own timeline. Myself and Helga had gotten closer, and though not exactly considering ourselves an item, we knew we would be eventually. It had been the year that I had given Helga a new locket (she got a kick out of that, as I recall), and the year we shared our first real kiss. I looked back over at Helga, who was holding the tattered blanket close to her, tears streaming down her face. I closed my eyes once more.

  


I could see it. My own stupidity. How could I have ever acted like this? There were no excuses, I should have known better! Even if someone had gone back in time to change things, to change me, I STILL SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! I was angry at myself for being so dense more then the person who had changed my blissful reality. 

  


Eugene getting beat up day after day, and I didn't help. Acting like a jerk to Gerald and ruining our friendship. And watching, watching the Pataki's car drive far away, and not running after it. I wished I were dead. I gave a short laugh at that thought. What was I thinking? I was dead.   
"Well, then. I wish I would have died sooner." I mumbled out loud, sarcastically.

  


Helga spun around. "What did you say?" Her voice was low and frantic.

  


"Forget it."

  


"I refuse to. What the heck did you say?" 

  


"I wish I would have died sooner." I mumbled again.

  


She glared at me. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. Never, I repeat, never" her voice got louder, echoing within the vast nothingness, "say that again!" She paused for a moment, clinching her fists. "The timeline diverged when we were in 7th grade. Up to that time when some idiot tinkered with our lives, you were the most amazing person I had ever had the honor of knowing."

  


I shook my head. "You're misunderstanding me, Helga." I took a deep breath. "I know how I died, now..."

___________________________________

Point of View: Arnold

Time: Present

Place: Altered Timeline

___________________________________________________

  


"Are you sure that the pilot can land this thing?" I asked from my seat. I was buckled up tightly, but a foreboding feeling had taken over me anyway. The stewardess rolled her eyes at me, and blew a big bubble from a ridiculously large wad of gum she had just put in her mouth. I wished it would have popped and gotten stuck in her mousy brown hair. 

  


"Yeah, kid. He's landed one of these before. How much harder can it be with people on board it?"

  


I really didn't like that answer. "So, he's only flown commercially once?"

  


"No, no, you've got it wrong, taco face" She tugged at her gum a little, then stuck it back in her mouth. "This is the first time he's flown commercially. The size of plane shouldn't matter that much, either, now should it?"

  


"That isn't safe!!" I protested, gaining a death-grip on my seat. 

  


"Heck, what were you expecting for such cheap tickets?"

  


I grimaced as the pilot came over the intercom. "Um, hey there, peoples! Your pilot's speakin' to ya's. Hope you had a nice flight, and um, we're landing. Oh yeah, buckle in!" I heard a click, and guessed that was him turning off the intercom. He must have supposed he had too, and yet we still heard his voice loud and clear over it. We heard the sound of pages ruffling. "Okay, chapter eight, 'How to Land a Plane'"

  


Someone in the back yelled out first, "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!"

  


The whole cabin of the plane was in a frenzy. While some people were screaming and crying, I saw still others, fear etched in their faces, clasping their hands, lowering their heads, and praying.

  


"God," I whispered, eyes shut tight, "If we don't survive this, let Helga know I love her, and that..." I cleared my throat, trying not to get too emotional, "And, please, Lord, let her know how much..." The plane was going down, fast, at a painful angle. People tried to brace themselves, and still others unbuckled in a final act of defiance. My lip had gone numb from how hard I was biting it, and the rusty taste of blood filled my mouth. Tears escaped out of the corner of my closed eyes.

  


I didn't even hear the sound of the plane crashing over the wails of the dying passengers. In a frenzy, I broke open the window next to me, the glass cutting into my hand deeply. The fire around all of us burned even hotter as it lapped at our flesh and consumed our belongings, and the smoke grew so thick that I had to stay low to the ground to breathe. Every survival instinct in me told me to just jump out of that window that I had broken, yet everything in my heart told me that I wasn't going to make in anyway. 

  


I spotted a woman, holding close to her a tiny baby. She too, was crawling on the floor, gasping for breath. "Help" she whispered, her voice rough from the smoke and the pain. Another explosion sounded, and I knew time was growing short. "The window." I pointed up to the one I had broken. We were up at the front of the plane, so it was closer to the ground then the windows back further on the plane. "I don't know how far of a drop it is, but it's the only way out." Others had tried the emergency doors, but they had been jammed shut on impact. She nodded, determination in her eyes. She thanked me briefly, and then, hugging the baby closely, got up to the window. She looked out frantically, and noticed that rescue crews were outside, ready to save her as she fell. She announced this loudly, then jumped. 

  


A line formed, and I urged everyone to move quickly. About three minutes had elapsed from the last explosion, and while I was no expert, I expected the main fuel tank to explode at any moment. Many, make that most, of the people in the plane had died on impact, or moments afterward. As the last of the survivors jumped to safety, I looked around to see if anyone else remained who could be saved. 

  


  


  


  


  


  


Just then, the fuel tank exploded.

  


I felt my entire body careen forward and hit the worthless cabin door.

  


  


  


  


  


_I was on fire. Oh God, I was on fire._

___________________________________

  


Point of View: Arnold

Time: Future

Location: The Oblivion

___________________________________________________

  


I sighed, "I was supposed to surprise you that evening. Your New York friends had me fly in for a blind date with you." Helga looked back up at me, wide eyed. "You probably thought you had been stood up. You could have thought a lot of things... and I'm sorry. I wanted to make things better, not worse."

  


Guiltiness marred Helga's countenance, and a long silence followed. Blinking back tears, she sighed heavily, "Now, how to get out of here?"

  


___________________________________

  


(AN: Confused in any way, shape, or form? Please tell me! I want to make this work, as it will most likely be my last Hey Arnold fic! I'm pretty proud of it, and I want others to like reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

  


God Bless Y'all!

  


Miss Matched

  


Oh! And if you believe that this chapter should up rating from PG to PG13, please do say so when you review!)

  



	14. Player

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

AN:

I'm learning as I write this story.

1. Just because I think an idea is good, doesn't make it good.

2. Switching back and forth from times and people is HARD.

3. Who cares about reviews!?

The latter being my biggest epiphany, lol. If no one chooses to read this, I'm still gonna be writing it. 

Stacy: No worries, I like Nick too! lol

Snow Lane: Thank you for telling me. I've added a little information about the points of views when I switch them. I hope that helps. 

M. Silvermane: you're right... I'm reposting this chapter minus the explanation. However, I sorta have to leave the point of view stuff, because people kept getting confused, and I'm evidently not doing good enough in showing that the views change by myself. I've seen similar things in books, so I assumed that it didn't look bad. If some other people review in saying that the point of view things suck, I'll take 'em out...

Well, now to tie up loose ends, hopefully!

  
  


___________________________________________________

Chapter Thirteen: Player

~*~

Point of View: Nick

Time: Present

Location: Altered timeline

___________________________________________________

  
  


"Hi, You've reached Nick Samson's personal phone line. Yeah, I know, I'm lucky, right?! {chuckle} Well, I'm not home now, go figure, so leave a message and your phone number after the beep, and I'll call you back. Okay, later!" A beep rang out, and I groaned.

"I sound like a retard." I mumbled to myself.

"Takes one to know one." A younger me retorted back smugly. Funny how I'd grown to hate myself so. I remember recording that message around the end of sixth grade, when I'd first gotten my answering machine. Actually, come to think of it, I never did record a new message on it until I got into college. 

"Um, hi Nick..." The new message sounded. It was a girl, Phoebe, I could tell. The younger me loved her, something I know I never had before at this age. Perhaps it was because I spent time with her now, though I personally wasn't attracted to her. No, I was with her only to tick Gerald Johannson off. And a ticked off Gerald can say things he may regret, even ruin a friendship. 

"I can't say that I haven't enjoyed being with you..." Phoebe started, her voice wavering over the answering machine. "It's just, I haven't been completely honest. I'm in love, Nick. In love with someone else. I'm so sorry... I really am, but... but we're through. It's better this way, I know you'll agree."

"I know, Phoebe. I'm sorry." the younger me answered while I pounded my desk in fury.

"I still want to be your friend..." she continued.

"As do I" the younger me answered back.

I growled. "Shut up, she isn't talking to you!"

"Oh, my bad, you're right. I'm not a player like you."

"I am you."

"Well then, wouldn't that mean she's talking to me?" Funny how I don't remember being a little snot nosed brat when I was in 7th grade.

"Anyway," Her voice was still shaking, "Forgive me, please. And if you can't, well, I understand. Goodbye, Nick." And then the line went dead.

I cursed under my breath. 

"And you should leave her alone. Don't even talk to her." My younger self advised. "You're not here to ruin her life, so just leave her out of it from now on."

"I'm just glad to know that you've finally conceded that I'll succeed, eventually."

"Not it I have anything to say about it."

"Don't worry." I chuckled to myself, leaning back in my chair, "You don't."

  
  


___________________________________________________

Point of View: Helga

Time: Present

Location: Altered timeline, Manhattan

___________________________________________________

  
  


Standing outside in nothing but a sleeveless pink dress on a frigid Manhattan evening was not on the top of Helga's "to do" list. And yet, there she was in front of a quant coffee shop, looking down at her watch.

"Forget it." she muttered "He was supposed to be here thirty five minutes ago." She couldn't believe a blind date had stood her up. "It's not like I was aching to come tonight anyway." She knew that wasn't true, she really had been looking forward to it, but what had she been thinking anyway? The only person she had ever fallen for was miles away, and it was pointless for her to try and fill that void. With a sigh and a wistful smile, she began to walk that mile long walk back to her family's apartment. At least she'd been saved from a huge mistake, one she'd never again repeat. 

The sidewalk was almost silver in the moonlight, which shone high above all the tall buildings. It peeked in between skyscrapers, and shone down on everything it's illuminating beauty. Whoever believed the beauty could not be man made was clearly mistaken in Helga's eyes. She sighed, there was a half a mile left to go. 

"Criminy, why couldn't I have at least brought a shawl?" Helga muttered to herself. "Or a coat, or a pair of pants..." She sighed. Only a few more streets left now. A bright blue man flashed as a walk signal as she began to walk across the busy street. It was the last thing she would ever see. 

  
  


___________________________________________________

Point of View:Arnold/Helga

Time:Future

Location: The Oblivion

___________________________________________________

  
  


"Mind you, I'm not suicidal." Helga countered, smearing tears off her face. "I lost control of my body, just for a moment. Sort of an out of body experience, I suppose." she sighed. "I'm sorry I blamed you, Arnold, it was all for the better. It wasn't real."

Arnold was crying fitfully, clinching his fists for lack of anything solid to take his anger out on. "It was real. I was an idiot, and it was real. I had no right, Helga. I don't know what..."

"Shove it, Football head." She whispered in his ear, and lightly kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sure..." She took a ragged breath "That Phoebe and Gerald are trying to help now."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"How football headed can you be? They're our best friends, and creators of the time machine. Even though it wasn't their fault, there sure as heck going to feel responsible, and they don't even know half the story yet."

"And the worst part is" Arnold sighed, "it isn't over yet."

____

AN: The action picks up next chapter, so don't touch that dial! Wait... um... okay, forget that.

  
  


Miss Matched

  
  



	15. Interlude

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

AN: This is short... actually, not even a chapter. But watch out, I plan on having the next chapter up tomorrow. 

___________________________________________________

Chapter Fifteen: Interlude

~*~

Point of View: Gerald

Time: Future

___________________________________________________

  
  


A few beads of perspiration fell down my face as we had finally finished the time machine. It had been a laborious task that was set ahead of us, recreating the result of years of research in a matter of hours. Yet, still, twelve hours after meeting with Helga and Arnold, it was completed. The silver remote lay in the palm of my beautiful wife's hand. 

"So, then..." I whispered to her. She was crying slightly, but holding the remote firmly in her hand. Unlike what others might have imagined, the remote was actually the entire machine, a design that Phoebe herself had created. She turned back to me, determination in her eyes.

"I'm going now." She whispered, "And I can't let you go with me."

"What?!" I asked, confused. We did everything together. Living off of nothing but dreams we had built this lab. "I love you, Phoebe, and there's no way you're going without me."

She sighed, and turned away from me. "Without the safety feature in here, our current minds will not be implanted in our past bodies. We will be traveling into the past, bodies intact. We are going to come into contact with our past selves, we already know that. No one wants to know the effects of that. We could merge permanently, self-destruct, or even melt the fabric of time!" She took a deep breath, and stood up a bit straighter. "I love you Gerald, so much, and that's why I can't let you go. This is too risky, and if I don't make it... I..." I put my arms around her, and let her cry into my shoulder.

"You're so noble, Phoebe," I whispered into her ear, "But I couldn't live without you. I don't doubt you or your intelligence for a moment, but look at everything we've been through together. I never want to live without you, Pheebs. Got that?"

Phoebe clung to me tighter, and when she pulled away, I saw a determination in her eyes like I had never seen before. She truly was an amazing, wonderful person. I grabbed her hand, and she nodded. Two lovers trying to change the course of time; our biggest adventure and trial ever was about to begin...

___________________________________________________

Point of View: Nick

Time: Present

Location: Altered timeline

___________________________________________________

  


Nick was furious. Pacing his room like a caged tiger, furious. His inner child, his voice of reason told him to back down. It told him that he should go back, try and make something out of himself. He had let anger eat him away from the inside. He was a man on fire in a child's body. He could feel the burn, it was his soul. It seemed so unfair to him that because of one tiny action, letting Arnold play for him in basketball, his life was ruined. How was he to know that they were being watched and sized up that night, being viewed if they were good enough to play college ball. How could one action change his life so drastically?

And there was that woman... the one with the deep blue eyes. Could he have had a chance with her if he was in that game that day? He liked to think so. He liked to see himself and her together, he pictured it often. He could see her and him on the beach shore, the waves lapping up against his ankles as she lay her head against his shoulder and ran her fingers through his brown hair.... But it was never meant to be. She ended up with Arnold. They had a daughter named Princess, she was probably treated like one too. With her father's money from his basketball, they could very well afford all the finest luxuries in life. Nick looked back down at his clinched fists. His nails had bitten into his skin, and some blood dripped through his fingers. He had been complacent for too long. He had to move, now. It was time for the final blows.

  


  


___________________________________________________

  


This story is turning out waaaayyyy longer then I had ever hoped or dreamed. Maybe, just maybe, this is the halfway point in the story. I have the second to the last chapter playing in my head right now, DUDE, it's cool. Lol, with my luck I'm never gonna be able to write it like I'm imagining it. But anyway, I'll try to have the big chapter out tomorrow!

  


God Bless Y'all,

  


_Miss Matched_


	16. Divergence/Picking up the Pieces

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

AN: Ha! I bet you didn't believe that I was actually gonna post so quickly! Well, I'm trying very, very hard to make this good. Did you know I started this story on January first? I just figured that out today. So, my big aim; have this finished by the end of the year. Think I can do it? :-D 

___________________________________________________

Chapter Sixteen: Divergence/Picking up the Pieces

~*~

Point of View: Gerald

Time: Future

___________________________________________________

I had never gotten used to it. I don't think I ever will, as a matter of fact. We had tested the first time machine for short amounts of time, as to not disrupt the flow of time. We traveled five minutes into the future, and five minutes into the past. It was crazy, even though the trip had lasted only seconds, it had been... unbelievable. At least we could enjoy it then. Now, it wasn't for pleasure, and though it was hard for me to admit, it wasn't even for the advancement of science. Phoebe looked up at me, "Are you ready?"

I smiled weakly, holding her hand, "I was _born_ ready."

Despite herself, Phoebe giggled. I smiled at her, "We can do this, Pheebs. For now, let's just relax."

"You're right." She nodded, "It always is easier to think when one is relaxed." She looked down to make sure that I was still holding her hand, then she flipped the switch on the remote with her other hand. The world around us faltered like bad TV reception, and then melted away, leaving us surrounded in a tunnel of silver and black. I let go of Phoebe's hand now that we had both been transported successfully. Using her free hand, she began to turn the main dial. 

"I'm going backwards though now, Gerald. You look over on your side, and I on mine." Phoebe said, commandingly. I smiled, I loved it when she took control. A time travel could easily be compared to an out of body experience. Looking at the side of the tunnel closest to Phoebe, I could see the both of us making the time machine, something we had began twelve hours earlier. In the blink of an eye, seemingly, the scene was gone. I then remembered my job, and turned to face my side of the tunnel. Quickly, I averted my eyes, hot angry tears running down my face. I couldn't let Phoebe know what I saw... I could feel the pent up anger welling within me as I, despite my better judgment, recalled the brief scene. The bloody knife sticking out my beautiful wife's back, and nothing I could do... 

"No" I reminded myself silently, "That's why I'm here, now. To right this. We **can** do this, no turning back. Ever."

I think Phoebe could tell that I had tensed up, as she turned around and gave my hand a squeeze. "I don't know what you saw, but forget it. It never happened." She whispered soothingly. "Just watch, and tell me when what you see on that side is the same as what you remember to be true." I nodded, and squeezed her hand.

I hated myself at that moment, taking orders from her. I didn't hate her, no, not at all, I loved Phoebe, always would, always will. But at that moment, I realized that I wasn't nearly as strong as her. For us to survive this, I might just have to defy her. It wasn't a thought I cherished, not in the least. But she nearly hadn't let me be here with her, for fear of my life. I know her, she loves me so much she would take a bullet for me... _or a knife_... But that moment, I swore on Fuzzy Slipper's future grave that I would protect her, no matter what. ___________________________________________________

Point of View: Nick

Time: Present

___________________________________________________

  


He had stopped from his pacing abruptly, and opened up his clinched hands. Furrowing his eyebrows and closing his eyes, he concentrated with all his might. A silver remote appeared in his hands. 

"Goodbye, for now." He spoke mockingly to his younger self as he turned the dial. His whole body quaked, and then he was gone, leaving me alone on the floor in a heap.

Slowly, I willed myself to get up. I was in control again. I had learned so much, and was so scared... 

I knew now who I would grow up to be, a bitter man who blamed his own wrong decisions on the innocent, a man who could condone his own actions if his way was eventually achieved. That wasn't me. I'm not that person. I couldn't be! I mean, how could I hate the guy who helped everyone when they were down? And yet, I had seen it. I had seen myself do the unthinkable. First, isolating Arnold from his friends. Unwillingly, I had watched myself convince Arnold into hanging out more with the team, and blowing off his real friends. And when it seemed that his best friend was going to get in my way, I had taken Phoebe, the only apple of his eye. 

It pained me, but I had to come to grips with it. I did this. It didn't matter if it wasn't me now, it was who I was to grow up to be... 

I caught wind of a rumor that Arnold and some Helga girl used to be sort of together, bound seemingly together by the strings of destiny. After doing a little research, I found that this Helga's father was looking for a new place for his beeper emporium. What was his name? Bloated Bill? It was something equally stupid, I'm sure. I told my father about their family's hopes and dreams of having a good place for a beeper emporium, and my kind hearted father cut them a good deal on a large amount of land in a very industrial area of New York. 

  


It wasn't something I wanted to do... It was something I would plot years from now. It was almost too odd to comprehend. **_I_** had planned and plotted to ruin my **_friend's _**lives. I fell back to the floor, crying, even though it wasn't the most manly thing to do. 

And there was truly nothing that I could do. But could I try to pick up the pieces now? I picked up the phone, and dialed the only number I'd ever bothered to memorize. The answering machine picked up. 

"Phoebe? It's me, Nick." I began, my voice quavering. I hadn't really spoken for months and months, and words felt foreign as I spoke. "I got your message... I love you Phoebe, I might have never been the best at showing it, but I love you. And all I want is for you to be happy." I took a deep breath. "I wish nothing but the best of luck for you and Gerald. And, yeah, I'd like to be your friend. But Gerald gets to be your best friend, okay? Well... I guess I'll see ya. Bye." And with that, I hung up. 

___________________________________________________

  


_Author's notes: Ha! So for all those Nick haters... Okay, were there any Nick haters? I know someone said that they liked him. Well, I like him too, lol. He's so fun to write for. Well, strangely enough, I think I can do this! *big breath* I can't promise much, but I think there will actually be another chapter up tomorrow. This is the part I've been wanting to write ever since the night that I decided to screw up this entire story and make it Sci Fi! So, um, please keep reading. Or don't. It doesn't matter, I'll still be here, pounding away at my keyboard without a care in the world. _

  


_Peace!_

_Miss Matched_

  


_(And remember, if you think the story sucks, R and R! How else do you expect me to improve?)_


	17. Lost

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

AN: Ha! I bet you didn't believe that I was actually gonna post so quickly! Well, I'm trying very, very hard to make this good. Did you know I started this story on January first? I just figured that out today. So, my big aim; have this finished by the end of the year. Think I can do it? :-D 

___________________________________________________

Chapter Seventeen: Lost

~*~

Point of View: Phoebe

Time: Future

___________________________________________________

  
  


It felt like sifting through the wreckage of a home after a fire. Only the fire was fury, and the home, our lives. I smiled slightly, I'd never been the poet, that was Helga's domain. Helga... Would she be affected by this? And Arnold, would he be all right? I looked at my side with a smile, this was the correct timeline. Scenes flying by so quickly that I could barely keep up. All of high school, Eighth grade... 

"STOP!" Gerald yelled frantically. "Right here!" Quickly, I pressed a button, and we were frozen in between the two timelines. "The first day of school. See, me and Arnold did the thumb wiggle!" He laughed, looking to the side. 

"What grade?" I asked, curious. I looked over his shoulder. 

"Seventh." He confirmed. Looking on the other side of me, I could see the identical scene. 

I was confused, "So, why are you so sure that this is it?"

He sighed, "Because according to this timeline, I get into a fight with Arnold a few days later. Evidently we make up pretty fast after that, and then a few months later our friendship is gone."

"That definitely never happened before." I mused, "Well, I suppose we'll be getting off here, then?"

"No." Gerald said, surprising me. He usually agreed with me every time. "We should probably go ahead a few months, where the changes are more obvious, and take note of everything different. Then, we can pinpoint the person who caused all the changes, who will also be the person who stole the time machine..."

I smiled, "And then, we can go back to the exact moment where the timelines diverged, and stop it from happening! Gerald, you're a genius!"

He blushed, "Naw, I'll let you keep that title."

I pushed a few buttons, and we traveled a few months ahead of where we had been before. 

"Look," Gerald blushed, "Well, at least SOME things are right with this time..." I saw myself talking to Gerald outside of my old seventh grade homeroom. "So, we go in here... But stay in the shadows..." I pressed another button, and we were able to walk through the seemingly thick wall of time...

  
  


Suddenly, we were back in the hallway of our old Junior High School. It was eerie, really, and yet, interesting. We were viewing ourselves in a different situation then we had ever been in before; we would see how we would react to stimuli that we had never felt before. It would have been intriguing, had we not been in so urgent a situation. Ahead of us was, well, ourselves. I listened intently to the conversation. 

The younger me was staring down at her feet, uncomfortable by the confrontation. A young Gerald asked her to look up at him. 

"Gomen nasi..." She answered back meekly, head still down, but eyes gazing over the top of her glasses. 

Gerald squirmed, and responded gently, "Phoebe, please, stop with the Japanese."

"Gom..." She began again, then caught her self, "I mean, I'm sorry. I didn't even know I was doing it." I shook my head. To this day I would still speak in Japanese when in difficult situations. I wondered what had happened between my younger self and Gerald?

Young Gerald went against his own advice, and looked down at his clasped hands. "I shoulda said this a long time ago, and I've regretted it... I like you Phoebe" He was blushing, as was she. 

The older Gerald next to me elbowed my rib. "This is still cute, isn't it?" he whispered, "I mean, for not being real." I motioned for him to be quiet. Meanwhile, the younger him was still speaking.

"I know you're going out with Nick, and I wish you two the best of luck... but I just had to let you know. I'm sorry."

I felt my jaw drop about an inch. Nick? Did I even _know_ a Nick?! I looked back up at Gerald, who had his arm reassuringly around my waist. He wasn't mad at me. Good.

"Gerald..." the younger me trailed off, "I'm... confused... I've always liked you but..." Tears were forming in her eyes. The young Gerald nodded. 

"But there's Nick." He finished for her sadly, reaching for her hand. He shook it firmly. "It's fine, Phoebe. I'll wait for you." his voice was almost a whisper, but shone with sincerity. He turned away, unsure of what to do. "Bye..." And with that, he walked away.

I watched myself intently as she looked at Gerald's retreating form. Suddenly, her head snapped up. 

"I think she senses us!" Gerald whispered frantically, grabbing my arm. That one motion, however, gave us away. She was walking closer to us. 

"Who are you?" She asked, afraid. There was nothing else we could do, but step out of the shadows. She looked up at my face, and then down at my right arm. My eyes grew wide as I realized that a scar on my arm was showing.

"Fifth grade." She whispered to me, pointing out the scar on her own arm. "Riding on the handle bars of Gerald's bike. He wasn't used to it, I guess, was he?" I was shocked. She didn't seem frightened anymore. She looked up at Gerald, stuttering slightly. "I take it I make a time machine when I grow up?"

Gerald looked back at me with a half smile. I could see nothing but pure admiration and love on his face. "Yes," he answered, "You and that punk you were just talking to."

"I... I've gotta go." she motioned to her homeroom. "But you know better then anyone else that I'd love to help. Whatever you're here for."

I laughed, "Thank you. I know we'll probably need your help."

She turned around, and walked back to her classroom, as if nothing were wrong. 

Gerald turned to me, "She took that pretty well..."

I shook my head. "I have a feeling that she's seen us before." Gerald looked at me confusedly, but said nothing. I looked back down at the time machine remote.

"Gerald... We've just created another timeline..."

___________________________________________________

_WoOOOOOOO! This is so FUN! I'm loving every moment of writing this now!!! _

_Oh, a little something extra for y'all. I was trying to write the very beginning of this chapter, and instead, this poem came out. I hope you like it too. _

  
  


Just a wish,

Just a dream. 

I guess nothing's as it seems.

All I wanted was to be by your side. 

On a hope

on a prayer.

Knowing you're always there,

I breathe in as I watch you slide

away.

  
  


And all I wanted was

to stay where I was

and all I needed was

in the palm of your hand.

And all I cared for

was your every word.

Now, when will I see you...

again...

  
  


  
  


_Until next chapter,_

_Miss Matched_


	18. Only a Dream Away

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Eighteen: Only a Dream Away

~*~

Point of View: Arnold

Place: The Oblivion

___________________________________________________

  
  


There were so many things that crossed my mind in those hours, perhaps days? I had no concept of time in this place, perhaps we'd only been here for a moment disguised as in eternity. How we kept our sanity is truly beyond me, but we did it. Me and my loving wife. Me and the woman who hated me. Me and a puzzle, personified. And I loved her for it, so much. Deep down, I knew she loved me because of it too. 

What we shared was never a simple love. It was never the ice cream lickin', park strollin', sunset watchin' love that you see in the movies. It was soul moving and deep. Like a diamond in the rough; something you had to dig for and look deep down to see it's true beauty. 

But how deep do we have to search now? We're both in our own little worlds. Her face showed concentration and anguish as she tried to figure out the "how"s and "why"s of our situation. And against my own better judgment, I searched deeper within myself, trying to un-surface everything. Every little emotion, every word spoken from that other time line. Whether I liked it or not, it was a part of me; it was me. What I saw didn't paint a pretty self portrait, instead it revealed my own thought pattern to me, what could make me turn away. I guess.... I guess I always saw myself as the strong one, but I wasn't. 

  
  


Helga's head snapped up, suddenly, as if breaking a trance. "Arnold!" She cried out. 

  
  


___________________________________________________

Point of View: Helga

___________________________________________________

  


I have a bad habit of fighting the skeletons in my closet. I mean, I know they're dead, but they're still there. It's like, even though some things are gone and away, they still eat away at me. But, heck, the old habit did me _some_ good, at least. Looking over everything I had done wrong let me see something right. Hindsight really _is_ twenty-twenty vision.

  


"Arnold!" I yelled out, my head snapping up quickly. "Think back to seventh grade." His face looked pained, and I could tell he really didn't want to. "Please, Arnold. I think I know the cause of all of this!"

  


He closed his eyes once more, and I smiled. He did truly love me, didn't he? It was so... surreal. When I was younger, it seemed so impossible... like I would never be good enough for him. Yet, it was enough for me to imagine us together; I could live knowing that he was only a dream away. I lived in my own separate world for so long only because the real one had hurt me so badly, and yet, when he was around... He was the one person who could ever make me feel so alive when I chose to wake up, and the one person who continually haunted my dreams. It was ironic, and it was a part of me for so long. 

  


I guess that's why I could hold a grudge against him so easily. It was wrong, but I'd put him up on such a pedestal. Sighing, I put my head in my hands. "Helga, ol' girl," I told myself, "Time to put your guard down, and learn the definition of 'forgiveness' again."

___________________________________________________

  


_An: Sorry so short! But I'll respond to some reviewers, if that makes anything any better!_

  


_Brianaluvsfutballhead: (I hope I spelled that right!) I'm glad that you liked this story up to chapter fifteen. Please, trust me, things are going to turn out peachy. I've been planning this story for so long, and I know how it's gonna turn out, lol. _

  


_Stace: Thank you sooo very much for sticking with me! You're great, you know that?_

  


_TADAHmon: Lol, well, I hope you're lovin' this chapter too! I'm glad I've got your attention!_

  


_Athena Lionfire16: I've got a theory that the Chicken came before the egg. Eh, I won't bore you with it now, though. But, actually, there will be the big Nick good vs evil conclusion up ahead, so keep reading! And thanks for adding me to your favorites!_

  


_Pyrus Japonica: EVERYONE READ "HOT AIR"! I COMMAND THEE! *big breath* I like Gerald too. He's pretty dang awesome, lol. _

  


_Silvermane: I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. I'm just trying to get over the shock of you not giving me any constructive criticism! :D_

  


_Well, everyone, a semi-long chapter titled "Love and Basketball" will be up tomorrow, hopefully. "No Turning Back", the chapter after that, actually may be up tomorrow also. So, you never know. I'd just like to thank all of y'all for reviewing, and giving me the drive to continue!_

  


_Peace!_

  


_Miss Matched_

  
  



	19. Revealed

For Her

___________________________________

  


A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched

Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging. 

___________________________________________________

All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. 

___________________________________________________

  


Chapter Nineteen: Revealed

~*~

___________________________________________________

  
  


The walls gleamed a bright, painted white that nearly blinded my eyes. Had they always been like that? So spotless? I guess I'd never taken time to actually examine them. What was I thinking?! I slapped my forehead. I wasn't back here in this God-forsaken timeline to admire the **blasted** walls. To prove it, I kicked it and it's pathetic, white glory, leaving a crack like a spider's web through the drywall and bits of plaster in the air. I backed up slowly to admire my handiwork. It's was a relief to not have that annoying, goodie goodie past self in the back of my head, telling me to calm down, be rational, or shut up. I looked around my small house. Had anything changed? Had I done it? 

Two black leather armchairs were seated in front of the small TV set. The bright, white walls were covered in the black and white pictures that I remembered all too well. Yelling out in frustration, I punched a hole in the wall behind me. 

"**HOW COULD NOTHING HAVE CHANGED?!?!!?"** I screamed. In anger, I pulled those delicate black and white photographs off the walls and smashed the frames. Finding that creating that much wreckage had a calming effect on me, I slumped down in a chair in front of the TV. Sighing and rubbing my temples, I flipped the TV on. A man with a ridiculous toupee was on the news, fidigiting with his papers.

"No new news over the Hyerdaul-Johanson Lab pilfering. In case you're just turning in, or have been living under a rock, a prototype, one of a kind, first _ever_ time machine was stolen from Hyerdaul-Johanson Labs a few weeks ago. Some religious groups are taking this as a sign that the end of the world is happening soon. Disappearance rates have been on the rise, and reports of people disappearing after having heart-attack like symptoms have been made. While these reports have not been confirmed, there's enough of them for all of us to be worried." The news anchor was sweating like a pig, causing his toupee to slip and slide around his bald, ugly head. I laughed at this. Well, at least it had made the news. That was a small triumph for me, I still had done something. Yet, it made me thirsty and yet drunk with anger at the same time. How close had I been to winning back my life? I groaned holding my head in my hands. My head throbbed back in response. I sighed, fingering the time machine dial, and thinking back to the first time I had pressed it.

Deciding on what time to go back to had been the easy part. I decided to go back to where my "friendship" with Arnold had started. Seventh grade, the very year that we had met. We had been fairly close friends... and I had trusted him. He betrayed my trust the moment his snagged that cushy basketball scholarship from under me. It was war from then on. 

So, it was simple. All I had to do was get Arnold onto the basketball team. You see, he hadn't tried out in 7th grade, but in 8th grade, he tried out and made it. I talked to the school basketball coach, some fat wimp named Coach Wittenburg, and he agreed to give me a starting position if I got Arnold onto the team. Seems he knew the Football head from a basketball team he had coached years before. 

Getting Arnold to join the team was a pain in the rear, though. He simply refused, because he needed buddy buddy time with _Gerald_. Long story short, cutting him off from his friends, and Gerald off from reality was all I really needed to get him to agree. 

It felt like someone was stomping on my head, hard. Groaning, I blindly got out of my chair and made my way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I muttered to myself as I searched for the Advil. Groping for the bottle at the back of the cabinet, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Dark, bloodshot eyes, greasy brown hair, face creased with bitter anger. I paid no mind, and clenched the Advil bottle tightly. After downing two, I fell back into the wall. 

"All I need is a little sleep" I assured myself. "Just a little break. Then, back to the old grind again. Back to changing the world."

  
  


___________________________________________________

  


_An: Ladies and gentlemen! It is my pleasure to announce the 2002 Hey Arnold Fanfiction Awards!!! _

  


_Random person: What is she talking about?!_

  


_Okay, here's the skinny. Below all this information will be a form. You must, and I repeat, **must** fill out the form in it's entirity, and email it to miss_matched@hotmail.com_

  


_Random person: Psshaw. So, what you're saying is that the only people who can vote are the ones who read your stories?_

  


_Nonsense! I encourage everyone to plug this in their authors notes. No, not my stories, just the contest. Include my email address so they can email their favorites to me. Heck, even post the form and my email address at the bottom of your story. I would appreciate very much!_

  


_Random person: Can I vote more then once?_

  


_I would rather you only vote once for every section. Once the ballot comes out, all votes before hand are null and void, and you may vote again._

  


_Random person: I love a fanfic that was written prior to 2002. May I please nominate it?_

  


_Well, only if it has been updated in 2002. Next year, the awards will be only for 2003 stories, and so on and so forth._

  


_Random Person: Well, I like a story that's Action/Adventure and Drama, so I wanna submit that for Action/Adventure. Can I submit it for Drama too?_

  


_Sure can. If it has two genres, then it's eligible for both awards._

  


_Random person: Well, what are you gonna do with the winners?_

  


_Well, first off, I'll have some sort of award for them. It'll depend on the winner... I'm hoping to depict a scene from their story on the award. Second, I'll be writing the award ceremony in fanfiction form. I'll have "snippets" from the nominated stories, and it'll just be cuter than anything._

  


_Send those nominations on in, and please, don't review with them! But do review, lol._

  


  


_The 2002 Hey Arnold Fanfiction Awards!_

  


_Best Over All Author: This is the one author that you love the most. You don't just love one or two Hey Arnold stories by them, but all of them._

  


_Best General Story: Best story from the "General" section._

  


_Best Humor Story: Best story from the "Humor" section._

  


_Best Action/Adventure story: Best story from the Action/Adventure section_

  


_Best Mystery story: Best story from the Mystery section_

  


_Best Si Fi, Fantasy or Supernatural story: Best story from the Science Fiction or Fantasy or Supernatural (Only 8 stories in this category. Wow, eh?)_

  


_Best Angst story: Best story from the angst section_

  


_Best Romance does not exist. Why? Too many stories! _

  


_So, we have..._

  


_Best Gerald/ Phoebe Romance_

  


_Best Helga/Arnold Romance_

  


_Best Unlikely Romance (Helga/Gerald, Arnold/Phoebe, Helga/Made up Character, Brainy and Miss Matched (Joking, Joking... :-D) so on and so forth)_

  


_Best Minor Character Romance: (PeaPod Kid and Nadine, stuff of that sort!)_

  


_Other Awards..._

  


_Best Soliloquy: Best story featuring mostly one character talking to his or her self, and revealing their thoughts without addressing a listener. _

  


_Saddest Story: Story that made you cry and think at the same time_

  


_Most Meaningful: A story who's lesson can also be used in real life._

  


_Best Short Story: A one shot that left you saying "Woah"_

  


_Best Song Fic: A story who's song is woven in perfectly with the story._

  


_Daydreamer's Award: This one has special meaning to me, so there will be three, yes, three Daydream award winners. These three coveted awards will be given to the stories that you stayed up late at night thinking about. Yes, you may nominate three stories._

  


  


_Note: Horror is disqualified because the one story submitted is two words long._

_Suspense is disqualified because no stories are from this year._

  


  


_Remember, send in your lists to miss_matched@hotmail.com_

  


_Oh, and review for this story, too?_

  


  


_Peace,_

_Miss Matched_

  



End file.
